Crayon Drawings and Crushed Daisies
by DolbyDigital
Summary: The love between a mother and her son will never waver, no matter what life throws at them.
**A/N** \- Written for kenziescott54.

I'm not good at maths or writing children, so ages and characterisations might be a little off. Also, I have no idea how canon that first train scene might be as I can't remember if Harry saw Draco on the platform or train before they left, but that's what I felt fit best with this story. (I only mention it because I know you said you didn't want anything AU, but as it's such a small part, I figured it would be okay.)

Thanks to Firefly and Liza for the help and reassurances :)

* * *

Narcissa smiled down at the child held in the crook of her arm; his face was a blotchy red, screwed up in displeasure, and he was whimpering as though he would start crying any minute. He was beautiful; she couldn't imagine loving anyone more.

"Its head's a strange shape," Bellatrix said from her position by the door. She slowly made her way further into the room, eying the child with distaste. Narcissa would never tell her, but the expression was reminiscent of that of the infant's.

"He's lovely," Narcissa said, turning her attention once more to her new-born son.

"It's a boy? Shouldn't he be bigger?" Bellatrix asked, eyeing the child critically.

"He's absolutely perfect, and I wouldn't change a thing about him." She leant down to place a delicate kiss on the boy's forehead, rocking him gently until he settled down.

.oOo.

She watched the child play in the gardens from her seat in the shade.

"Doesn't the boy have any friends?" Bellatrix asked, watching Draco reach for a butterfly with tiny fingers.

"Of course he does," Narcissa said. "He's very sociable."

"Of course," Bellatrix repeated, her tone vaguely sarcastic. "He doesn't do much, does he."

"He's only a baby, what do you expect from him?" Draco chose that moment to push himself up onto shaky legs and toddle over to his mother and aunt.

"Mama," he said, smiling up at her, holding out a small daisy crushed in one chubby fist. "Mama, look."

"Oh, that's lovely, Draco," she said, ignoring her sister's scoff. She picked up the toddler, balancing him on one hip, and took him into the house. "I know a spell that means we can keep that beautiful flower forever."

.oOo.

"Mummy, look!" Draco's voice proceeded him as he ran into the room, drawing clutched to his chest.

"What have you got there, Draco?" Narcissa crouched down, reaching eye level with her son.

"I made a picture," he said, holding it up for her to see. "But Pansy ruined it."

"How did she- oh," Narcissa trailed off when she noticed the large stick figure drawing of a girl with her dark purple hair pulled into pigtails.

"She drew herself in my family. And her hair isn't supposed to be purple," he said. "But the black crayon's gone."

"Well, it's still lovely," she said.

"There's you, Mummy," he said, pointing at a stick figure drawing with neon yellow hair, whose arm was joined to a smaller stick figure with the same bright hair. "And you're holding my hand."

"Where's Daddy?" she asked.

"There." He pointed to another stick figure separated from the rest, a brown rectangle coming from the end of one of its arms. "He's at work," he said. "And!" He flipped the paper over. "There's Auntie Bella!" He showed her another stick figure with purple hair; black vertical lines covered the entire page. "She's in As- Az- She's in prison."

"Right," Narcissa said, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. "That's… that's lovely, Draco. Where's Uncle Rodolphus?" she asked. Draco's face fell.

"I forgot," he said, glaring at his feet.

"That's okay, honey, Uncle Rodolphus doesn't photograph well anyway." He began to smile, but it dropped quickly off his face.

"But Pansy still ruined my picture. She's not family."

"I will be when we get married," Pansy said, pushing open the door and glaring at Draco.

"I don't want to marry you," Draco said. "You're a girl."

"Boys can marry girls," Pansy said, still glaring. "And I'm gonna be the best wife."

"Why don't we have lunch?" Narcissa interrupted before they could get into another argument. "Dobby's made sandwiches. And I'll hang this up somewhere," she said, as Draco handed the drawing over to her and ran after Pansy to the kitchen. She turned it over, looking at both sides of it. "Maybe a window somewhere."

.oOo.

"Goodbye, Mother," Draco said, giving her a stiff hug. "Father." He shook his father's hand, turned, and boarded the train lugging his trunk behind him. He looked like a child playing at being an adult, the image was both amusing and heartbreaking; she just wanted her little boy back.

She glanced around the crowded platform, watching the other parents say their tearful goodbyes to their own children. Lucius was already turning to leave.

Someone barrelled into her side, and skinny arms wrapped around her waist.

"Bye, Mummy," Draco whispered, burying his tearful face in her side. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Draco," she whispered into his hair, kissing his forehead and wiping his tears. "Write to me, okay."

"Every day?" he asked.

"Maybe not every day. You'll have a lot of work," she said. "How about every other day?"

"Okay," he said with a smile, turning and running back onto the train. She stood and watched as the train pulled away, Draco hanging out the window and waving.

.oOo.

She stood back, near the wall, as Draco said goodbye to his friends. She couldn't hear the conversation from where she was standing, but she could see Mrs. Crabbe edging closer, clearly trying to listen in on the children. A vile woman; Narcissa had never cared for her.

"Mother," Draco greeted her as he approached.

"Are those your friends?" she asked. Draco turned to look back at the two remaining boys - the Crabbe boy was one of them, and she assumed the other must be the Goyle's youngest son.

"No," he said with a scoff. She frowned at that, but didn't press.

"Did you have a good first term?" she asked instead.

"I wrote to you at least three times a week," he complained. "You already know everything."

"Yes, but I want to hear it from you."

"Those letters were from me," he said.

"In person."

"Well," he said, as she knew he would - her son had always loved to talk - and he launched into the tale of his first day at Hogwarts.

.oOo.

"I don't want to go back," Draco said quietly, avoiding eye contact and keeping his hands buried deeply in the pockets of his winter coat.

"Why not? You've been talking about Hogwarts non-stop all holiday," she said. It appeared to be the wrong response, though, because Draco finally looked up long enough to aim a piercing glare at her before turning away again.

"Because," he said with a scowl, folding his arms across his chest and looking the very definition of petulant child.

"What's happened?" she asked, wondering when he'd stopped telling her everything.

.oOo.

"Mummy?" he whispered, opening his eyes slowly and squinting in the bright light of the hospital wing. "What're you- what're you doing here?" he croaked.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair and pulling it away from his eyes. "You were hurt. That boy, he'll-"

"Mummy, no. It's fine," he said. "I'm okay."

"You are most definitely not okay," she snapped, before gentling her tone. "This could have turned out a lot worse than it did. What was that boy thinking?" Draco yawned, eyes struggling to remain open. "You go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up," she said gently, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

.oOo.

"Mother," Draco said by way of greeting.

"Good morning, Draco." she smiled at her son, though the expression felt a little off. Things had become strained between everyone recently, and the added additions to their household weren't helping matters.

They ate in silence, neither willing to break it. There were too many days now, and anything - no matter how trivial - ran the risk of being misinterpreted; anything could cost them their lives.

She watched her son, noted the dark circles under his eyes and the unhealthy sharpness to his features; how he kept his head down, and the slight shake to his hands.

She traced her fingers along the pendant around her neck, the slightly damaged daisy preserved within the crystal, wishing things were different.

.oOo.

"Are you packed?" Draco asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yes. I was just… looking," she said softly, taking one last wistful look at the empty room. It looked a lot bigger empty, and the bed frame looked strange as the last piece of furniture remaining.

Her eyes were drawn to the window, to the old crayon drawing spelled to the glass. The side stuck to the window was faded from years of being exposed to sunlight, but the other side remained as it had been, complete with Pansy's giant form towering above everyone.

"You don't need to bring that," Draco said, but she could see the smile already beginning to form on his features.

"Of course I do."


End file.
